


I Can Help With That

by thisisallbullshit



Series: Everything's Okay [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Date, Fluff, M/M, Teenage Shenanigans, Underage Drinking, can be read as stand-alone fic, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-16 20:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11836647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisallbullshit/pseuds/thisisallbullshit
Summary: Ian is feeling pretty shitty so Mickey tries to cheer him up by taking him out on what is definitely not a date.





	I Can Help With That

“Hey.”

Mickey smiled a little but didn’t turn towards the familiar voice. “How’d you know I was here?” he asked.

“Where else would you be?” Ian plopped down next to him, leaning against the wall crumbling wall of the abandoned building, and placed a gift basket filled with fancy chocolate and bottle of wine in front of him.

“The fuck is this?”

“Frank is apparently gay now.”

Mickey looks him in the eye for a moment, waiting, before saying, “That doesn’t answer my question. At all. Also, what the fuck?”

Ian chuckled. “It’s a scam. Probably. Anyway, the, uh, ‘gay community’ or whatever responded with gift baskets and shit sent to my house, and you and I are the only real homos here, so I figured we ought to share in the bounty.”

Mickey snorted. “Fine by me. Since when can you get free stuff for being gay, anyway? Send that shit my way.”

Ian laughed, pulling out the wine bottle and popping the cork, taking a long sip. Mickey reached for some chocolate, eyeing the wrapper as he chewed, and took a swig when Ian offered him the bottle. Wine definitely wasn’t his drink of choice, but he wasn’t about to turn down free alcohol.

They drank and ate in comfortable silence for a while, and when they were both just buzzed enough to excuse it, relaxed into each other, sides pressed against one another, silently reveling in their small show of affection, and decidedly not talking about it.

Ian sighed, closing his eyes and resting his head against the wall. Mickey noticed the little furrow in his brow and frowned. “You good?”

Ian took a minute to reply. “I think Lip got into MIT.”

Mickey’s eyebrows rose. “Shit.”

Ian nodded. “I knew he could, I’m happy for him.”

Mickey bit his lip, wondering if he should stay quiet or delve into the personal shit a bit more. He went with the latter, because he’s something of an emotional little bitch these days. “You don’t really sound happy.”

“I, uh, didn’t get into West Point.”

Mickey choked on his wine. “Shit, Ian, I didn’t know you got your letter back?”

Ian looked away. “Don’t need it. I didn’t fit all the academic requirements. My GPA is still fucked from when I nearly failed algebra my freshman year. I don’t even know why I bothered sending in the application.”

“Well you don’t know for sure-“

Ian shook his head, cutting Mickey off. “I know for sure. Getting my hopes up won’t help anyone.”

Mickey stayed quiet for a moment, feeling conflicting emotions war in his head – happiness that Ian may not be fucking off to school in less than a year, and sadness that he didn’t get to fulfill his dream – when icy fear settled in his gut after he was struck with a new idea. “So, what? Are you just gonna enlist now?”

Ian sighed. “I dunno. I could apply to other military schools, I just- Everything I’ve been working for over the last few years has been for nothing, and… I kinda feel like a failure right now and don’t feel like thinking too hard about my future at the moment. I just wanna get drunk.”

Mickey felt his lips quirk up into a little grin. He could do this, he could cheer Ian up- it’s the least he could do, considering how much the kid has brightened up _his_ days in the last couple years. “Well, shit, is that all you want? I can help with that.”

Mickey stood up and held his hand out, pulling Ian to his feet, and shoving the nearly-empty wine bottle into his chest for him to finish off. He did, and looked at Mickey questioningly after he was done.

Mickey grinned, motioning to the empty bottle. “Throw it against the wall,” he instructed. Ian frowned, and Mickey rolled his eyes. “Just do it.”

Ian shrugged and chucked the glass bottle into the wall, watching as it burst into a million little fragments upon impact. “That was… really satisfying.”

“Yupp,” Mickey agreed, before gesturing for Ian to follow him as he made his way out of the abandoned building.

They ended up at the closest liquor store they could find. Mickey instructed Ian to wait outside while he went in. Five minutes, a gun, and an angry cashier later, Mickey was running back outside, a couple of whiskey bottles tucked under one arm. He grabbed Ian’s wrist as he passed, who ran with him willingly.

“You piece of shit!” Ian shouted as they ran as fast as they could, going down every ally they saw to escape the angry worker screaming from behind them, “I have a fake ID, you know!” He was trying to sound angry, but he was laughing. It made Mickey laugh, too.

“Like anyone would ever believe you’re 21,” Mickey said as they slowed to a halt, leaning against the back of a brick building as they caught their breath. He handed Ian the bottle he’d stolen for him and opened the Jack Daniels he’d grabbed for himself.

Ian grinned as he inspected the label. “How’d you know I love Fireball?”

“Didn’t,” Mickey admitted with a shrug. At Ian’s raised brow he smirked, “Fireball… Fire _crotch_.”

Ian let out a loud laugh, and Mickey had to join. Ian held up his bottle, “Cheers.” Mickey was still smiling when he tapped his bottle against Ian’s, and both took swigs of their respective drinks. Ian grimaced at the burn in his throat when he took a too-big gulp, and Mickey snorted.

“Now what?” Ian asked after a few minutes, looking to Mickey curiously.

Mickey shrugged. “It’s only- what? Eight o’clock? Let’s go fuck shit up.”

 

* * *

 

 

After getting pretty close to wasted in the ally, they ended up in some over-crowded bar several train stops away from their own neighborhood, which turned out to be pretty lame, so Mickey took it upon himself to start a fight with the bouncer; Ian backed him up, of course, and they got their asses thrown out. Ian tried to act angry, but Mickey found Ian was a really happy drunk, so he only glared at Mickey for a moment before bursting into giggles.

“Okay, my turn to pick where we go,” Ian declared.

“Fuck – _hic_ – fuck that!” Mickey drunkenly protested.

Ian shook his head. “Nope. My turn. An’ I wanna find something you’ll hate. Because you’re a li’l bitch.”

Mickey sputtered out a laugh but followed Ian without protest. That is, of course, until he read the sign outside the bar Ian was trying to enter. “’Karaoke’? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!”

Ian only wiggled his eyebrows and walked inside, leaving Mickey with no choice but to follow him.

As it turned out, Ian wasn’t out to torture Mickey, and didn’t force him to get up and sing anything. He just led them to a table in the back corner and informed Mickey that “watching drunk people do karaoke is truly the funniest thing on Earth.”

As usual, Ian was right. It might’ve had something to do with them already feeling drunk and giddy, but they were in stitches by the time the first person on stage was finished with their drunken rendition of Salt-N-Pepa’s _Shoop_. At one point, after he had a little bit more to drink, Ian got up to perform _Ice Ice Baby_ , which Mickey felt was the funniest thing he’d ever seen in his life. He was in tears by the time Ian made his way back to their table, which caused Ian to laugh too.

They stayed in their corner for the rest of the night, losing their inhibitions as time went on and slowly getting closer and closer until they were practically sharing a chair. Mickey quite enjoyed growling at both men and women to fuck off whenever they approached Ian, and Ian seemed to enjoy it just as much, looking at Mickey all sappy and fucking giddy.

They left the bar just before one and only barely caught the last L train back home. They stayed quiet during the ride; neither really wanted to go back to their shitty lives. Absently, Mickey wished he was able to spend all his time the way he had that night – having fun, smiling freely, being with Ian in public, _touching_ Ian in public – but he knew that could never happen. Being with Ian made him feel free, but he knew he would never be able to really have that. Ian would leave one day, and Mickey would be stuck in South Side, in his shitty home, pretending to be straight for the rest of his life because he’s too pussy to stand up to his dad.

They left the station and began walking through the familiarly-shitty streets of their own neighborhood, and when they were supposed to go separate ways towards their own homes, Mickey followed Ian instead.

“Your house is that way, dummy,” Ian said with an amused smile.

“It’s late, Gallagher, there are scary people out right now.”

“What, you mean like you?”

Mickey snorted and shoved him playfully, and neither said anything else until they were in front of the Gallagher house. They stopped and stared at it for a moment before Ian turned to Mickey, opening his mouth to speak. Mickey cut him off by grabbing his shirt and tugging him towards the side of the house.

Here, late at night, in the dark where no one could see them, still feeling the joyful effects of their night together, Mickey felt safe. Safe enough to cup Ian’s face and pull him into a soft, tender kiss. It didn’t last long, but both boys looked awed when they pulled away.

After a moment of staring into each other’s eyes, a slow grin took over Ian’s face. Mickey knew what he was thinking, he was thinking that they had just gone out and acted like a couple in public, then Mickey had walked him home, and left him with a goodbye kiss. He was thinking that this was absolutely a date, and Mickey couldn’t even deny it. Ian didn’t say anything though, he knew what was good for him, he just left Mickey with another quick peck before making his way up the stairs and through his front door, smiling the whole time.

Mickey tried to be mad, tried to get annoyed that the kid had _tricked him into a date_ , but he was still a little drunk and feeling too accomplished that he had successfully cheered Ian up to mind.

What’s one date, anyway?


End file.
